


The Mymble

by kickintheshin



Series: Carousel [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Dubious Consent, Gore, M/M, Mental Instability, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Possessive Hannibal, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2156565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kickintheshin/pseuds/kickintheshin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will Graham meets a ghost from his past, and Hannibal Lecter admires the fruits of the mental seeds he planted seventeen years ago. Part two of Carousel; sequel to Little My.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sagiso

**Author's Note:**

> This is direct sequel to Little My, in which Hannibal and Will were brought together and torn apart throughout their childhood's, and Will is manipulated by Hanni to believe he's done some bad things. You don't have to read Little My to begin this, though it will obviously be referenced throughout the fic, and would probably be advisable for clarity. Enjoy!

Will had a hyper greyhound on an extended leash, and they were wandering to the park, taking full advantage of the glorious sunshine.

Megan wasn't his dog, of course. His tiny, shared dorm barely allowed for room for himself and his arrogant roommate, let alone one of the most excitable dogs Will had ever had the pleasure of walking. And it was quite enjoyable, if not a little overwhelming, Will pratically dragged to the location of the park, whereupon he would let Megan off leash for an good half an hour, free her from the tyranny of the leash.

She knew, which amounted to her eagerness to arrive at their destination. The park was hauntingly empty for a Friday lunchtime, considering it was one of the places that stoned college students liked to take over, to eat their vegan salads and throw many a rave. Will didn't pay enough attention to know what the average college student got up to. He spent his time working, studying, and driving to Virginia to visit his father, and his roommate spent his time eating hot pockets and playing Japanese roleplaying games. It was meaningless, to Will. The absence of human life was very reassuring, almost poetically soothing, and he didn't take much time to dwell on it.

Will leant down to unfasten Megan's leash, the dog licking messily at Will's face. And Will smiled at the creature, glad that dogs probably didn't have the ability to measure sincerity.

"Go on, Meg." Will pushed the dog forward slightly, and off she went.

Further than Will remembered her being able to go.

He ran after the creature, over a large, damp field, the sky much darker than it had been not a moment ago.

Yet Will paid this no mind, almost slipping in his desperation to catch the dog, running through greenery.

And the creature was gone, Will acutely aware of a presence behind him, quite the familiar presence. That of a male, somebody who Will hadn't had the pleasure of the company of in years. They were holding hands, and Will felt calm as he stared at their surroundings. The farmilar warmth of the den he'd made for himself when he was thirteen years old.

"I come here when I'm too angry to go home." Will found himself informing the presence behind him. The male, who was quite a bit taller than he, older looking, bore no face, smoothed over features.

"Or upset. My Dad doesn't know." Will continued to inform faintly, wandering forward and sitting on a log, which was sheltered under trees.

"I used to come in here with... I-it doesen't matter." He ran his feet over the dried golden leaves, the figure sitting next to him. But he wasn't, all of a sudden, the corpse of a young woman sat next to him instead.

Mangled, her intestines staining the white blouse she was wearing a splotchy shade of scarlet, her face destroyed beyond viable recognition.

Yet she still managed to look at Will, still, by some miracle, managed to smile, place a hand in his. A mangled hand, her wedding rings physically embedded into her ruined flesh. 

Will wasn't afraid. The fact that he wasn't was more unnerving than the hand he squeezed back, the squelch of flesh, the crunch of displaced bones grinding against each other. He heard a distant scream of pain that wasn't quite from his companion. 

"I'm sorry." He said, and the woman moved her displaced jaw, as though she was speaking with his voice. There were hands around Will's stomach, and he watched, entranced, as a hand, seemingly covered in black plastic, plunged past the red flannel and into his stomach. It felt like the burn of sex, the warm breath on his neck sending tingles up his spine, the faint hum of a harnoinca engulfing him. 

"I forgive you." Hannibal said, and he pulled Will's heart from his chest, tearing it out of the adipose keeping it attached to his lungs, displacing his arteries as the flimsy tissue stretched and snapped. 

Will awoke in a cold sweat, his alarm clock ringing shrilly, his own hand groping at his chest. Which was whole, his heart thumping, but still there. The brunette fell back into sweat soaked sheets, hands over his face, gasping for breath.


	2. Ayame

"Dr. Lecter? This is Will Graham, the person I told you about." Jack motioned Will into Hannibal's office, the therapist surprised to see him. He smiled politely and offered his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." If Jack knew they were aquainted, he would never allow him his role, and though Hannibal was delighted, he didn't want to lose the brunette again.

"I am Dr. Hannibal Lecter." Will stared at Hannibal's outline. A true relic of his past, Hannibal had aged a lot less gracefully than Will had, yet had a sort of aire to him that Will never remembered Hannibal possessing. He fought back an almost angered smile, bringing his hand to his mouth for a moment.

"I had... Assumed, by suggesting you took me for my evaluation, we would be going to pay Dr. Bloom a visit." Will lied. He didn't return Hannibal's offered handshake.

"There's a conflict of interest there, Will." Jack felt the need to remind Will, who, of course, already knew. He almost laughed to himself, utterly thrown off-course by Hannibal, who was not a trick of the light, but flesh and blood.

"Thank you, Jack." Hannibal stepped around Will, Jack backing away.

"I'll leave you to it, then." The detective turned and started down the hallway, Hannibal closing the door behind him.

 "Will Graham. How you have grown..." Will held back another laugh, massaging his forehead. 

"I could say the same thing about you, Dr. Lecter. A very... Nostalgic sight." Will had, on recommendation of a trauma specialist who he'd seen after a particularly nasty incident while he was on the front line, left his childhood behind him. To some degree, Hannibal himself. 

"I haven't seen you since... Johnny Brooke's funeral?" He closed his eyes.

"I was not at his funeral." Hannibal said, sounding slightly troubled. 

"I've lived here since our last night together." He went to one of the chairs and sat down, hands folded in his lap. 

"You weren't?" Will's eyebrows furrowed. "I... Could've sworn you were." He felt utterly sickened. He didn't want to believe he had been hallucinating, yet there was a nagging in the back of his mind. His psychosis hadn't even been that bad around the time of his old friend's death, though it had worsened substantially in the aftermath, before easing up again. He didn't make to sit down, stuck rigid to his spot. 

"Have you been seeing things that aren't there?" Hannibal asked, leaning back in his seat and crossing one leg over the other. He was undressing Will with his eyes, curious to see what had changed, wondering how much work it would take to take him apart and rebuild him in his image. It was thrilling. 

"Not habitually." Will replied, opening his eyes and examining Hannibal's office. Hannibal paused, reading Will for a moment. 

"Jack Crawford asked me to be your therapist because you are apparently going back into a line of work that makes you unwell. Will you let me try to talk you out of it?" He said, voice trembling with emotion that wasn't really there, though just barely. 

Will looked over Hannibal, mustering a dark, ruin-dripping smile. He hadn't noticed the emotion Hannibal was faking. 

"I'm the only person I have yet to meet who is able to empathise with killers in the way I am. In such a way that I can fully immerse myself in them. I can give you motives, can place myself fully in their shoes. I'm willing to sacrifice a little of my sanity to help Jack." Hannibal smiled sadly. 

"Alright, I'll help you, but I feel that if we are to do this properly, we should do it as friends. A therapist-patient relationship is much too distant for what you will need." Hannibal stood himself, approaching Will to try and gauge their height difference. He was still taller.

"You have my undivided attention for a hour. Anything you'd like to say?" Will scratched at his hidden, bloodied wrist. He had quite a lot to say to Hannibal, but lacked the words in which to say then with.

"Maybe we should start with a question: do you still have nightmares?" Hannibal tried, still standing. He wanted Will to feel comfortable, but the brunette didn't seem comfortable in his skin, let alone a new environment. Hannibal had the upper hand, and he worried that it was making Will anxious.

 "Or maybe you could describe your hopes for the future, if you'd prefer something lighter." Will trembled. 

"Hopes?" He chuckled darkly again. 

"I don't really find myself hoping for anything. Other than..." He shook, again. 

"I'm not myself. I haven't slept properly in days." 

"Would you like a ride home?" Hannibal suggested evenly, curious what Will's answer would have been. Will shoved his hands in his pockets, nodding faintly. 

"I don't want to put you out of your way." He admitted. "My car is in the shop. I'm having to awkwardly carpool my way around." He sounded a lot calmer now that the threat of evaluation was gone. 

"It's no trouble. You were my last patient." Hannibal went to gather his things. 

"Though, if you want to thank me, perhaps you can join me for dinner." He offered, striding to the door as he pulled on his coat. Will almost smiled to himself. 

"I never even finished our first meal together." He felt the need to point out, zipping up his coat further. 

"Allow me to make up for that." Hannibal said, holding the door open for the shorter man. 

"What are you in the mood for?" 

"I'll eat anything that isn't still moving." Will assured.

"Is Venison alright?" Hannibal asked, stepping out into the cool evening air. He clicked the keychain in his pocket, his car bursting to life with a chirp. 

"I got some huckelberries from a friend I know who lives in Montana. It pairs beautifully, I assure you."

"Ever the gourmet, Dr. Lecter." Will voiced. To that day, the meal that Hannibal had served Will all those years ago was the best food he'd had the pleasure to taste in his life.

"Food is the art of all the senses." Hannibal noted as he climbed into his car and started it. When he got home, he invited Will into his house, showed him around quickly, and went to the kitchen to start on the meal. 

"You can find a chair and keep me company, if you'd like." He called brightly from the kitchen. Will, now void of his coat, took a relatively high foot stool and sat himself upon it, hunching over. "

"Thanks for this. I probably should've said something to Jack, but... It didn't cross my mind."

"He won't let me watch over you if he knows we have histoy, but I don't trust anyone else with your sanity. Neither does Jack, apparently." Hannibal was thankful he had already marinated the meat, taking it out to sear.

 "It's not so bad. Our history spans in total... What, fifteen days? Over the course of nine years." Will seemed to consider."It could be worse. It was a long time ago, Hannibal."

"You were my first kiss, the first person I was intimate with, the first person who wasn't family to sleep in the same bed as me. It is that bad." Hannibal set the meat in the pan and started on the roasted squash he was intent on making. "Such a short time... we accomplished so much."

"It was impressive." Will seemed to concur. "How much have you changed? I... It dawned on me a few years ago that I didn't really know much about you."

"I have changed just as much as you have." Hannibal stated.

"If you have questions, you may ask them." "I don't want to pry." Had Will had a little more confidence, he would be asked every little question that had gone through his head since the last meeting he could remember with Hannibal. The college days he'd spent laying in bed, wondering what Hannibal was doing at that moment, the anxiety fuelled attacks that used to plague a far younger Will. Had Hannibal missed him? Did he think fondly of him, after all these years? Did he regret not keeping in touch with Will? What had he chosen to do with his life? In what shape was the childhood comic that Will had given him all those years ago still in? And, the most previlent of all.

"Do you still love me?" Will blurted out. He hadn't meant to say it, and was instantly horrified, eyes as wide as they were able to get.

"Yes." Hannibal answered quickly, without a hint of apprehension or doubt in his dulcet tone.

"In my own way, I suppose. I think about your wellbeing, I worry... I get jealous." Will shook himself.

"I apologise. That wasn't..." He stared at his hands.

"A year or so after Johnny died... I started having dreams about you. I'd never really dreamt... Well, I'd never remembered my dreams beforehand." He swallowed. "I still dream about you. You're always a child in them, and they never end well."

"How do they end, though?" Hannibal turned to Will to ask, sliding a pan into the oven and stirring his sauce.

"Not well." Will repeated. "A lot of the endings don't make for particularly polite conversation." He looked away. "Just... Generally gruesome." Will didn't want to detail his nightmares. 

"You don't have to tell me if you're not comfortable, but I was a surgeon for a while. I think I'll be able to stomach your dreams." Hannibal offered a reassuring smile, going to the pantry to pick a nice dark wine for their meal.

 "It's... Really not worth getting into. For every dead body I see, my mind is given new material on a way to kill somebody I care about."

"You dream about killing a childhood version of me?" Hannibal was too startled to keep from sounding touched, trying to play his slip-up off with a gentle laugh.

"You almost sound happy that my delusions involve me dismembering you." Will voiced grimly.

"I'm glad you are thinking of me." Hannibal joked, setting things onto the table neatly. "I was surprised. You were never a violent person." He admitted, beginning to plate the food.

"You... Obviously don't know me very well, if you're under that impression." Will replied curtly. His expression fell.

"I never forgot what I did. It... Torments me, every single day, every single night."

"You were a child. Nobody can blame you." Hannibal carried the plates to the table. "Now, come. Dinner." He chirped.


	3. Saboten

Will followed Hannibal through to the dining room, sitting in the seat set next to the head of the table, adjusting his glasses before doing so.

"It looks amazing." He noticed, clearing his throat.

"Thank you." Hannibal smiled, pouring wine for them both.

"How did you enjoy teaching?" He asked, finding his seat again and cutting into the roast on his plate. He was glad to see how tender it was.

"I still teach." Will responded, furrowing his brow momentarily. He didn't quite know how Hannibal knew, though he instantly assumed that Jack was behind it.

"I taught in a college for a while. The classes were far too big, though. I started working with the FBI a few years ago, teaching the students. I enjoy that more than teaching college students, honestly. Most of the people I teach have been training for years, so they're a lot more courteous. I don't mean to generalise, I... Just had a lot of cellphone usage in my college lectures."

"I must admit that I went to one of your lectures, a very long time ago. I was sure you had forgotten me, and couldn't stand seeing you moving on, but I was curious." Hannibal admitted, taking his first bite.

"Did you see anyone, when we were apart?"

"Yes." Will admitted.

"Most of them were first dates that never got any further than that. It was me, or it was them. I figured that relationships weren't really what I needed from life." He cut at the tender meat on his plate, placing a slice tentatively into his mouth as he mulled over the best way to word what he was going to say next, swallowing.

"I... Perhaps rightly assumed, that no relationship I'd embark on would feel the same as what we had. No, I have my dogs, and they're enough family for me."

"You have dogs?" Hannibal asked. "They're great companions; loyal, loving." He was oddly concerned. Will was apparently lonely, without peer, just as he had been throughout most of his life. Will didn't have the mask he had, though.

"Yeah. I've had dogs since I got out of college. Developed... A habit of taking in the displaced. My oldest, Jake, was dumped as a puppy. I weaned him myself." Will didn't seem in the least bit proud of himself, sipping at the wine Hannibal had given him.

"So I take in strays. Rosie came from a raided puppy farm, she's the exception to this."

"You have done good with your life, brightened everyone you've met." Hannibal nodded to himself.

"I'm glad to have helped you along." He finished the meat on his plate and started on the squash. Will paused.

"Have I?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"How many lives have you saved by catching murderers?" Hannibal asked. "How many good people have you inspired to do the same?" Hannibal finished his meal, sipping on the last of his wine. "

I'm not a saint." Will responded bitterly. "I'm really, really not." He ran a hand over his forehead. "Irene Lawson killed herself. Did you know that? She... She was twenty six and she jumped in front of a train. She had her whole life ahead of her, married, had a... A good job and she... Jumped in front of a train." Will felt sickened. He remembered reading about her death online, how far it had caused him to fall.

"The good you have done outweighs that." Hannibal tried, wondering just how deep the seed he had planted so long ago went. Will, falling apart at the seams remembering a crime he didn't commit. Hannibal stood and wandered around the large oak table, trailing his finger along the smooth surface before reaching Will, a hand on his face, guiding him into eye contact.

"I missed you."

"So did I." Will was quick to respond. He cleared his throat. "I... It never did get better than our last night together. The highlight of my life thus far." Hannibal leaned in for a quick kiss.

"Let me try and change that tonight."

"It's... Been a long time, Hannibal." Will moved away from Hannibal, ever so slightly.

"Seventeen years..." Hannibal stood straight, playing with Will's hair absently.

"Come lay with me. We can talk. I'll tell you about what I did when we were apart." Will didn't make to move, and Hannibal looked genuinely sad for a moment, breaking contact and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Would you rather I drove you home?"

"I'm sorry. I can just... Picture Jack's face if he ever found out that you and I had spent the night together." Will admitted.

"We've spent two nights together already." Hannibal tried.

"And I missed you so, so much..." Will, very carefully, let his forehead fall against Hannibal's chest.

"I don't want to get too close. Not... Not again. We should keep this... Professional, Dr Lecter."

"I refuse." Hannibal said. "We have a chance together. Nobody can take you away, we have control of our own lives, now. I intend on spending the rest of my life with you." He said firmly.

"I'm... I can't do that." Will stood, swallowing hard. "I just... Just managed to get over you. And then you come back. If you... Were so... Keen, on spending the rest of your life with me, you would've taken the initiative to find me. Instead, you wait for somebody to waltz over with me in hand, deadset on giving me a psychiatric evaluation so I can go back into a field of work that slowly drains away my sanity." Will was seething, and he didn't know why. It wasn't really Hannibal's fault. "Why didn't you stay after the lecture you snuck into? If you had, we probably wouldn't be here having this conversation." He stiffened. 

"I'll ask Jack if he could forward me to another psychatrist. Thanks for the meal." He muttered bitterly, marching out of the dining room to grab his coat. Hannibal followed, grabbing his arm and turning him around sharply.

"I thought you were better off without me, but you're not. I see that, now." Hannibal brushed his fingers over the brunette's cheek. "I'm sorry, for not being there before, but I'm here, now."

"You're ten years too late." Will responded, attempting to pull his arm away.

"Now... Please let go of me." "Please don't do this, Will." Hannibal released Will's arm, staring pleadingly at him.

"I can help you. I can make you happy." Will gritted his teeth, closing his eyes tight.

"Please don't beg me, Dr Lecter."

"I have no other choice." He brought their foreheads together.

"Please. Stay." Will was still for a moment, letting a shuddering breath escape his throat.

Abruptly, he leaned forward, pressing his mouth agressively to Hannibal's. Hannibal wrapped his arms around Wll's waist, tilting his head and trying at his bottom lip with his tongue. He was wrapped in Will's smell - the dark of good coffee, the sweet of another human being. Will ran careful fingers down Hannibal's face, opening his mouth the slightest bit for him. There was a certain clumsiness to both of their movements,

Hannibal allowing his tongue to pilliage Will's mouth, pulling desperately at red plaid, staggering backwards.

The backs of his knees hit the couch, and he fell into a sitting position. Will straddled Hannibal's lap, continuing to kiss the older man because he couldn't bare for them to be apart. There was a lot of things that Will simply didn't have the ability to correctly communitate, that he hoped would be clear in the throws of passion. Hannibal left Will's mouth to catch his breath, pulling Will's shirt over his head and feeling the air leave his lungs at the feeling of a bare chest against him. Will, almost aprhensively, shuddered at the feeling.

"It's alright." Hannibal assured.

"Don't worry about anything. I've got you." He slid his hand into the back of Will's pants and groped shamelessly. Will grunted, arching his back and moving against Hannibal's hand, carefully. The blond caught Will's mouth again, planting loving pecks on his pinkened lips.

"Can I have your mouth...?" Will nodded tentatively, scrambling obediently to his knees in front of Hannibal, who rushed to undo his black slacks, pushing them down his hips and starting to undo the buttons on his own shirt, a faint smile on his lips. Will was shaking with nerves, the male pulling down Hannibal's underwear, closing his eyes for a moment.

"It's been... A long time."

"You don't have to if you don't want to." The older man half-encouraged, a hand in Will's hair, feeling the curls wrap around his fingers and rocking against nothing.

"I... I want to." Will didn't sound very confident. He reached forward, drawing a tentative tounge down the arousal in his hand. Hannibal threw his head back and breathed heavily at the ceiling, and Will allowed himself to take him into his mouth, bobbing his head carefully. Hannibal managed his gaze down, massaging Will's scalp.

"That's good, that's... yeah." He panted, muttering in Lithuanian. Will bobbed his head further, struggling to stop himself from gagging. Rather abruptly, he pulled away, sputtering. There was a soothing hand on his cheek.

"Come." Hannibal moved around Will, stepping out of his pants and making for the door to his bedroom. Will made to follow Hannibal, because being away from him, if only for a moment, hurt. He slipped a hand into Hannibal's, the action forcing a chill down his spine. Foreboding.

"I will have you, this time." He assured, pulling Will to him and breathing in his smell.

"My beautiful Will Graham..."

Hannibal peeled Will's pants off when he had him lying on his back on his bed, admiring the flush of his skin when it met the cold air. He mapped his companion with his eyes, then his hands, from the subtle jut of ribs he was intent on solving with overfeeding to the line leading from Will's hip to his groin. Every touch was feathery and expliratory, the man memorizing Will's twitching and heated skin.

He wrapped a hand around the brunette's member and felt it grow in his grasp, pumping until Will was thrusting against his palm. He panted out something that sounded oddly like Hannibal's name, turning his head and spreading his legs when Hannibal pressed lightly against his inner thigh.

"Reach into that drawer." He commanded, a dazed Will reaching behind him to pull the drawer of the nightstand Hannibal had pointed out for him. He felt around, pulling out a pill bottle, a sharpie, and finally a tube of lubricant, which he gave to the blond. Hannibal was just as gentle as Will remembered him as.The last person he had been with hadn't taken his time, and the entire affair had been much more painful than pleasant, but Hannibal added his fingers one at a time, working Will open so slowly he was aching to be taken when the slick digits were finally removed.

The doctor climbed onto the bed, held one of Will's legs to the side, and positioned himself properly.

"Will, can I-" "

"Yes, shit, please, yes, fuck me!" Will whined out loudly, glad he was finally able to actually be with the person he had imagined all of his former mates were.

And Hannibal pushed past the stretched ring of muscle, Will holding his breath as he was filled. He felt beautiful, needed, relieved, the blond pulling back and easing forward slowly.

"I l-love you..." Will proclaimed breathlessly, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck. Hannibal responded with another thrust. They reached orgasm together, the two of them basking in afterglow and each other's warmth until they drifted to sleep.


	4. Panjī

Hannibal drove Will to the first case he had to go to, not wanting to leave him alone with the admittedly cold Jack Crawford, even if he simply waited in the car while Will went to work. He assumed he wouldn't be all that long, but was prepared to wait, regardless.

They arrived outside a locked down city theater, which was breaming with forensics and FBI agents. Will spotted Jack almost immediately, the man obviously waiting for him. He knew little of the case, but could deduce that it was probably something rather serious. He let out a resigned sigh, unbluckling his seatbelt.

"Don't feel like you have to wait. I'll see you later." Will, tentatively, reached over to squeeze Hannibal's thigh, Hannibal returning the motion fondly, the male exiting the car.

"I've made sure nobody contaminated the scene." Jack assured. "Alright, everyone, clear out!" He called, the bustle of work shifting away from the crime scene. Jack was the last to leave, hands in the pockets of his coat.

"They're in the main theatre, through the double doors."

"The adjacent unisex bathroom, to be precise. Go down to the side of the second floor seating, and you'll find them. The door is busted, it was jammed, so the theater staff busted their way inside. Not all that delicately." Beverly explained, Will nodding, wandering into the building, the concession still teaming with CSI. They had all seemed to have cleared out of the main hall, Jack cautiously following behind Will. He'd linger, near the entrance, for Will's opinion. 

Will was faced with two bodies. Two disembowled girls, with the wrong legs set at the bottom of their forms. The bathroom floor was soaked with blood, and there were bloody footprints. Footprints that matched the army boots the younger of the two women was sporting. Will closed his eyes. 

He wandered into a cubicle, closing it, hearing the heavy thumping of music in his head. Two chatting girls. This had worked out fine. It'd almost be easy. Angela had stepped into the bathroom to work on her hair, and her friend had bounded in after her. 

"Oh my God, Taylor just, like, put his hand on  my thigh. That means he likes me, right?" Christen chirped brightly, brushing foundation onto her face, covering oil. Will stared for a moment.

"You know he has that thing going with Lola Stone, right?" Angela voiced, and Christen pouted. 

"That wasn't true. She was lying." She turned around to fake-sulk, watching Will, narrowing her eyes. 

"Hello?" He waved at the male, whose hand was twitching, though he smiled, pressing a very, very intentful finger to his lips. The rest was simple. 

"I stab the larger girl, who is facing the mirror, first." Will speaks, softly, and he stabs Christen in the back, precisely. 

"She is taller than me. She can overpower me. But I instantly cripple her. She hits her head on the sink, and is knocked unconscious. Her death is painless. She is not the intended victim." He turns to the smaller, screaming girl. Angela.

"Angela Waters is my intended victim. She is a great deal smaller, easier to overpower. She is also wearing acrylic nails. Which she uses to..." Will, having pushed the girl to the floor, has his face scratched. 

"That is her design. Angela is clever, she was trying for flesh and blood evidence." Will, effortlessly, hacks off the offending hand, the girl too pained to keep fighting Will.

"I slit her throat. She drowns in her own blood." He stands, dragging Christen onto the floor, beside Angela's side, carefully working at removing her legs, while Angela watches.

"I want to hurt her. She's still able to feel. While I wasn't anticipating Christen's demise, I am prepared for it." He removes her legs completely, soaked in her blood. 

"Angela is now dead. I repeat the process with her, but, I remove her heart. Her heart is what I wanted. Nothing more, nothing less." Will winks, and he's back in the blood stained bathroom.

"I just took a little creative freedom with the presentation." Jack swallowed and crossed his arm, leaning against the doorway.

"Why the heart?" He asked. 

"He wants to use it. Angela didn't deserve her heart. She broke too many." Will exhaled. 

"The killer is somebody with access to a classroom. When he kills again, which he will, you'll find Angela's heart. He won't kill a student. He knows that we'll probably figure out his free access to teenagers sooner rather than later. I'd say he's probably prepared for it."

"Are we looking for a teacher?" Jack asked. 

"Someone who works at a school or youth center?" He took out his phone.

"I think so. They... They weren't strong. So... Short, not a gym teacher, by any means. They have a lovely grasp on anatomy. Youth centre might be a good bet." Will stared at the bodies.

"Don't mention it." Will wanted to leave, and he made to. Hannibal smiled warmly at Will when he saw him approaching his vehicle, turning the engine on.

"How did it go?" Will slipped into the vehicle. 

"Two seventeen year old girls, dead. One of their hearts missing. The killer is a novice. Though they've killed before, this was their first... Real presentation." Will reached into the inside of his coat, pulling a packet of aspirin from his pocket and downing one of the pills in a vain attempt to quell his headache. "Nothing I haven't seen before." 

"Tell me about the killer." Hannibal tried, pulling onto the street, making towards Will's house.

"Is his motive sex? Most murderers of teenage girls are sexually suppressed." 

"No. Not sex. Well, not sexual attraction, by any means. That's what the killer wants us to think, but it's not." Will leant back in his seat. "The killer is weak. Physically weak, but immensely intelligent. He killed Christen Firth because she was a distraction. She went down first, killed in a relatively painless manner. She could overpower him. Her friend was the target." He considered. "The picture that the killer has painted shows us two things. It shows us that he had a personal... Hatred of his intended victim, and it shows... Well... His skill. He's showing off. The way the bodies were disected was purely to show off his prowess." 

"A student? Perhaps someone that the victim bullied." Hannibal suggested, pulling into Will's driveway. There were dogs in the downstairs window, peeking out between the curtains at the creak of brakes. 

"The... The killer took the heart. I doubt to eat. Though that could work well with the butcher theory." Will unlocked the door, his dogs bounding at him, glad that their master was home. "Yes, yes, I'm home, I know you're all hungry..." Will chuckled, stroking one of the dogs with genuine affection in his gaze. "Make yourself at home. I can make coffee, if you're thirty." He rounded his dogs inside.

Hannibal started past the doorway, Winston suddenly baring his teeth, haunches raised. He offered the dog his hand to sniff; he didn't wish any harm.

"No, if he didn't like the girl, he wouldn't eat her heart. That would be... disgusting."

"He's taken it as a trophy. He wouldn't eat something so... Precious. So monumental. The heart of a heartbreaker." Will murmered, filling the kettle with cold water and lighting the stove. 

"Winston, come here..." Will patted his leg, and the dog ran over to him, growling. 

"What's wrong with you, huh?" He asked the dog, stroking behind his ear.

"Her hand was missing. She scratched him, I think." He felt the need to add. 

"He took the entire hand? Interesting." Hannibal waved a dog out of a chair and sat down, trying not to let Will see his disgust at having to sit in dog hair.

"A little drastic. They'll have probably kept it. A memento." Will mused. 

"I'll call Jack later." He took his coffee plunger from the side, preparing the drink and leaving it to brew. 

"Can I tell you about a dream I had recently?" Hannibal asked. "I usually only divulge this to my therapist, but I believe you can give me insight she can't." Will sat next to Hannibal, one of his smaller dogs jumping onto his lap. 

'Sure. While I'm probably not as qualified as her to give you meaningful advice, I'll certainly listen. Give you as good an angle as I can." 

"The Soviet Union had bombed America, and you and I were trying to survive. We found Jack, and he insisted that we go with him to the coast to look for something he had lost, and we agreed, only there was nothing but radiation, and we all died." Hannibal recalled 

"That sounds like something Jack would do. I'm suprised he didn't wrap me up in cotton wool beforehand, though." Will smiled despite himself. "Do you dwell on mortality often?" He asked.

"Not really. I'm accepting of my own and terrified of the death of others, so it's a topic I try to avoid." Hannibal said. "There is a beauty in it, though..."

"A beauty to death?" Will asked, sitting back in his seat. "That's how a lot of the killers potray their murders... Beautifully..." Will shook himself, his head tentatively falling onto Hannibal's shoulder. "I'm of the strong opinion that death will be nothingness. I used to crave it." He looked at Hannibal. "You're still not my therapist, FYI." 

"I couldn't be. It's completely inappropriate." Hannibal joked. "I don't worry about you committing suicide. You know you have too many people depending on you." 

"I haven't thought about suicide in years." Will admitted. "I wouldn't worry too much." 

"I've never considered suicide. It seems like such a selfish response to situations." Hannibal shrugged, taking Will's hand.

"I only really considered it after my Grandmother died. Around the time I started teaching. I didn't because... I didn't know what would happen to the dogs." He admitted with a soft frown. 

"They would probably be taken to the pound. Perhaps a friend would attempt to take care of them, but... you have quite a few." Hannibal tried not to sound condescending. 

"They're my family." Will tried not to sound hurt. "A pound is no place for a dog to live..." 

"I will see to it that every dog gets a good home if you pass." Hannibal promised. "A humane pound, if I can't." 

"I'll hold you to that. As best I can." Will replied.

"You're welcome to haunt me if I don't." Hannibal smiled. 

"You underestimate me. I'd be a nice ghost." Will assured. "I'd just... Clean up after you. And leave notes on Jack's desk. Maybe... Move his belongings very subtly over the course of a week or two." 

"That's very reassuring." Hannibal laughed. "Would you like me to leave, or can I stay the night?"

"If you want to stay, y-you..." Will was suddenly rather interested in the dog sat near his feet. "Feel free." 

"It'll be like old times." Hannibal nodded. Will smiled, nodding. 

"We only ever spent one... Proper night together, Dr. Lecter. As kids, I mean..." He reclined in his spot, standing after a moment.

"Right, coffee. Do you take sugar?" 

"I do. Two." Hannibal smiled lazily at Will, who peeled his sweater off, mustered a smile as he hung the woollen thing to the back of the sofa.


	5. Sakurasō

Hannibal drove Will to the crime scene. This one was at a public park in the bad side of town, a place known by the police for its junkies and homeless people. It was also a popular spot for some of the less respectful children, one of which had been found gutted.

The victim was a sixteen year old male. Dressed neatly in a school uniform, Jacob West lay dead under the rusted remenets of a playground. Throat slit yet again, eyes gouged out cleanly after his death, clothing soaked with blood, heart missing, and a plush bear set neatly in his arms.

"Some ruffians found him a couple of hours ago. I don't think they'll be terrorising the neighborhood until their skints in therapy are done." Jimmy informed Will, who was busy putting gloves on. He frowned, wondering why Jack hadn't towed everybody from the scene, yet.

Will hadn't killed Jacob at the scene. His death had taken place nearby, however, body carried a short distance through the night. His death had been more brutish than Angela's, and he was ashamed, the beautiful presentation of the scene an almost apology. The bear's symbolism was obvious. To Will. Who was crouched on the floor, eyes closed intently.

"He's... Taunting. Taunting, but there's anger there, too. He didn't kill because he hated the victim, unlike Angela... Think of it as a broad statement." Will voiced, on his knees in front of the male.

"What about the..." Jack gestured to the bear, and Will pointed at it.

"Angela's heart. Kept in the confines of a bear. I'd say the bear deserved it more, but that's not what this is."

"Are we looking for someone who knew them both? I doubt Jacob and Angela had much in common." The girl was from a better part of town, but he looked dirty, rough, much poorer than she had. The uniform didn't seem to properly fit."Is that his uniform?" He suddenly voiced.

"No." Will responded, running his hand over the blazer. "How did you find out Jacob's identity? He didn't have any ID on him, after all."

"One of the people who found them identified them as their drug dealer." Jack said. "He was, and I quote, 'a sharp knife'."

"A scumbag, then. Somebody who ruined lives." Will voiced. "Angela was a bully. A rather vicious bully, wasn't she?" He smiled darkly to himself. "These are people who have done wrong by their fellow man. Our killer knows this. And, like our old friend the Chesepeake Ripper, their presentation is... Well, humiliation, more karmatic in nature. He mutilates them after their deaths." He thought for a moment. The killers mind was murky. They were probably unwell, as well as young.

"The killer is a child. An intelligent child, oh-so intelligent, but their movies are all muddled. Childishly so. You're looking for somebody between the ages of 16 and 18, perhaps 19 at a push. Probably male, but... Effeminate? Skill in butchering, obviously." Will stood. Jack was busy scribbling down everything Will was saying, glancing up occasionally.

"Good. Thanks. Alright, you're free to go, Will." He looked over his shoulder and waved at Hannibal, who nodded back.

"Tell him I said hello."

"Of course." Will smiled ever so slightly. Jack knew he was rather friendly with Hannibal, but not that they were together.

Hannibal started the car yet again as Will approached. He was intent on discussing the case, rather excited too. It wasn't often that he got a first look into a murder investigation. Will entered the car, glad that Hannibal had waited for him.

"Jack says hello." He voiced. "I'm fine. The case... It's pretty black and white. The killer will slip up soon." Will seemed assured of the fact. "He's a child. Or... Has an extremely muddled piece of mind."

"A student, then. Did I not tell you?" Hannibal smiled, proud that his guess was right. "Have you considered that the killer might be a girl? Girls usually have stronger vendetas against other girls." Hannibal asked, pulling into his own driveway.

He stopped, furrowing his brow when there was a light on in the living room. "Someone's in my house."

 "Somebody broke in?" Will asked, a hand slipping into his pocket, resting on his gun.

"Wait here." Hannibal left the car, going quickly to the door.

Marvin was curled up in the corner with blood smeared on his face, having apparently tried to brush away a bloody nose with the sleeve of his orange jumpsuit.

"Marvin." Hannibal greeted.

"They didn't let me go. I had to eat eat EAT! my way out." Hannibal knelt before Marvin, falling to his level.

"Did you kill people on your way here?" He asked, the ginger shaking his head.

"I... I lied, before." He admitted.

"Do you have anything that could hurt me?" Hannibal asked.

"I won't hurt you." He sounded matter-of-factly. "Pretty guy, pretty, eat, eat." He had spotted Will, who, despite Hannibal's request, had snuck in after him, his gun in his grasp. Will entered the room, lingering in the doorway.

"We... Hannibal..." The male murmered, softly.

Marvin licked his lips and crawled out of the space he had tried hiding himself in. Hannibal looked over his shoulder at Will and groaned.

"I told you to stay in the car."

"Ffff- I will make you human!" He barked, Hannibal shushing him.

"That's Will. He's mine."

"I wasn't going to leave you with a home invader. I used to be a cop." Will reminded Hannibal, sick to the back teeth of being treated like a weak child.

"This isn't a home invasion, Will, it's a cry for help. He would have gone to his ex wife's house if he was intent on doing harm. You're not, are you?" Hannibal shifted forward, Marvin going from maniacle joy to utter agony in seconds.

"I d-don't want... I just... h-hungry..." He sobbed.

"You've destroyed his illusion of safety." Hannibal sounded angry with Will, however subtle. Will could sense the anger, and it hurt, in a way that Will wasn't used to hurting, the scorn burning. He slipped his gun back into his pocket, letting his hands fall slack by his side.

"Marvin?" Hannibal handed the man his handkerchief, and he wiped the drying blood away with it.

"You're hungry? What kind of hungry?"

"Both." He hissed out.

"If we sat down for a nice dinner, would you behave yourself?" He asked, the redhead nodding slowly.

"Good. That's good." He stood, offering Marvin his hand.

"Is the boy-girl - CAN'T HAVE HIM! - joining?" Will raised his hands, approaching the two.

"If you want me to." He replied, staring at Hannibal cautiously.

The three of them went to the dining room, Marvin's sniffling subsiding as he was sat down.

"I still have some roast left." Hannibal voiced. "Does that sound nice?" He knew Will had to be nervous. "The cow it's from was harmless until it was provoked, and the farmer had to put it down." He made eye contact with Will, letting him know that Marvin would only attack if something set him off, but giving him subtle permission to kill him if needed. Will swallowed hard, shoving his gun further into his pocket, hand hovering near it.

"Roast sounds... Lovely. Dr. Lecter really is a genius in the kitchen..." His voice was cracking with the slightest threads of anxiety.

"Yes, I-I remember. I'm Marvin- WE ARE GOD! - b-by the way." The man stammered, smiling distantly at Will."Y-you?" Hannibal started quickly setting the table, not taking the care he usually did, and gave each of them plates, sitting at Will's left.

"I-I'm Will. Will Graham." Will responded, voice cracking as he took the plate from Hannibal. He mustered a very small, trembling smile.

"And is Jobe here today?" Hannibal asked, taking his knife and casually cutting into his meat. He seemed much calmer than Will, familiar with the ginger's psychosis, reaching a hand under the table to squeeze his lover's thigh reassuringly. Marvin nodded.

"Jobe likes Will. He thinks Will is tasty - Graham cracker drowned in milk, hold it under - b-but he's the doctor's." Will bowed his head, adjusting his glasses because it gave him something to do.

"This is pleasent." He found it in him voice. Marvin didn't seem to notice the sarcastic edge in Will's voice. Marvin started on his food, right back to his manic bliss, grinning messily at Hannibal.

"Why did you stop taking your medication?" Hannibal asked.

"Tick, tick, tick - made me hurt. Made everything hurt, and I couldn't s-swallow." He seemed sad again. "

"Did you tell your doctor that?" Marvin's plate was thrown across the room, shattering against a far wall.

"THE DOCTOR SODOMIZED ME! I'm sorry, that was a lie..." Will stiffened, staring at his food. He wasn't sure why Hannibal hadn't called anybody, when Marvin was obviously liable to go off at any moment. At the same time, he pitied him. Psychosis was awful. Marvin's bottom lip trembled. "M-my head's really loud, and I h-have important decisions to make." Hannibal stood and went to the china cabinet set against the wall, finding a pill bottle in a drawer.

"This is Sillasiben. It's not legal, but it will help you think, and we can talk things through." He slid the bottle over. Marvin, who was completely trusting of Hannibal, struggled to open it and downed the pill, hitting his fist against the table as he fought it down. Will stopped an empty tumblr nearby from tumbling to the ground.

"Did you just..." He bit his bottom lip to stop him from questioning Hannibal.

"It's not my fault the federal government is denying people proper medications simply because a small percentage of the population use them improperly." Hannibal said, rather honestly. "It's much safer than what they had him on, anyway." Marvin was rocking back and forth in his spot, muttering. "You won't hurt us, will you, Marvin? You're a good person. A well-meaning person." This got Hannibal a human-looking smile, almost shy.

"I d-don't want to hurt p-people. Jobe... He wants me to."

"That's good. I don't want to hurt you, either, by the way." Will responded. He was too on edge to eat anything. "How did you get in?" There was no visible signs of an intrusion. Marvin set a bobby pin and flathead on the table, Hannibal sliding Will's untouched plate towards him. He picked the roast up with his fingers and chewed slowly to savor it.

"That pill should be working soon. Jobe will go away." After a moment of deathly silence, Mavin's trembling subsided, and his slightly pained expression softened.

"I... f-feel better." He voiced shakily, his gaze falling on Will all of a sudden, reading him. "Would you take me to the hospital?"

"Of course, Marvin. I'll tell them to change your medications, also." Hannibal stood, relieved that he wouldn't have to scrub blood from the walls.

Will pushed his plate away, standing and wiping a little sweat from his brow.

"Should I come with you?"

"Sure." Hannibal agreed, stepping towards the front door.

He left the dinning room before the other two, and Marvin was at Will's throat suddenly, shoving him against the wall and cutting off his access to air. Will couldn't get to his gun fast enough. He was shoving helplessly at Marvin's chest, the room spinning far too fast, his fist pounding on the wall when fighting against Marvin became too hard.

"Can you feel me eating you, Graham?" Marvin asked, smacking his jaw rhythmically, Hannibal running into the dinning room and tearing the psychopath away. He tumbled backwards, head hitting the corner of the fireplace with a loud crack. Hannibal had to comfort Will, wishing he could mourn the rug his victim was bleeding onto.

"Please don't tell anyone about the pills." Hannibal tried, taking out his phone and calling the police as he held Will softly to his chest. Will croaked, though he didn't muster any sort of real upset. All that was clear to him at that moment was the corpse standing in the doorway, cut open, every breath punctuated by the soft hum of a harmonica.


	6. Sumire

Hannibal had stayed at Will's until his house had been cleaned, the male finally on his way home, and glad for it.

"I think the dogs will miss you." Will remarked in the car, stopping at a light. "My pack took quite the liking to you."

"I'll miss them, too." Hannibal lied.

"You can stay whenever. I enjoyed having the company." Will admitted after a moment of relative silence. "

I would like that." Hannibal nodded, pursing his lips and staring out of the window.

"What if we bought a place together?" He suggested suddenly.

"What?" Will asked, his eyes widening. "I've... We been seeing each other for less than a month. Christ, you move fast." He ignored the fact that he'd known Hannibal for the better half of his life, blinking back suprise at the question.

"Alright." Hannibal resigned to let the suggestion fall away, Will stopping the car in front of the crime scene he had been asked to investigate. "I'd like to go home and change into my own clothes." He noted, motioning to the plaid shirt and worn jeans he was wearing. He didn't look himself at all. "But I'll stay if you want me to."

"No. It's fine, I'll take a walk afterwards or something." Will assured, face cracking into a tentative smile. He was nervous, which was slightly embarrasing. There was quite the scene outside the marked-off area, press and police, interested locals, all peering over the yellow tape.

"I'll... See you later."

"I love you, Will." Hannibal said, winking, somewhat unlike him. Will fought back a smile, more because he could hear Jack approaching.

"Te amo, Dr. Lecter." He pushed the car door closed, feigning blankness as he approached Jack.

"This one's younger than the last. Thirteen, we think. We don't have an ID, but we're checking missing persons." Jack got right to business. Will nodded.

"When was she found?" He asked, watching the police attempt to shoo the residents and reporters away from the scene.

"Around six this morning, by the person who works at the bistro she was in front of." Jack said. "He was opening the shop, and she was propped against the door." Will went under the cordoned-off area, staring at the corpse, and then the front of the store.

"Any CCTV?" He asked.

"According to the manager, the camera was stolen a few weeks ago by some local kids." Jack informed. Will nodded, staring at the body then closing his eyes. Jack had the other people clear the space, lingering nearby to watch the process and checking his phone, Hannibal letting him know he couldn't give Will a ride home with a briskly-worded text.

Will was carrying the body close. She was light, and she meant a lot to him. She hadn't died in the same way as the others, her death had been more dignified. It had been nessecary, an overdose of pills and then her heart promptly torn from her chest, but Will still allowed himself to cry.

"She is not evil. She is important to me, unlike the others." Will rasped.

"I leave her here to be found. Unlike Jacob and Angela, she is a good girl. A sister, a good sister." Jack wrote it down.

"We're looking for someone related to her?" He asked.

"Yes. A brother, perhaps a sister. She was killed painlessly... They didn't want to hurt her. This is manufactured." Will responded, shaking somewhat. "She won't have been missing for long."

"This would be much easier if we knew who the victim was." Jack said. "Alright, that's all we really need to know for now, thanks. You need a ride home?"

"I'll walk. Dr. Lecter doesn't live too far away." Will had slipped up, hoping Jack wouldn't notice, but he had.

"Why are you going to Hannibal's house?" He asked indignantly.

"He's my friend, Jack." Will lied confidently. "He makes for tolerable company."

"I heard he spent the weekend with you while he was having his house cleaned. Aren't you tired of each other?" He walked Will back out into the frigid afternoon wind, not blocked by the buildings surrounding the body.

"He's probably bored of me." Will smiled, considering whether or not he should tell Jack about the true nature of his relationship with Hannibal. Jack laughed.

"I highly doubt it. I can tell when he becomes tired of people. He's... short. Bored-sounding." Jack recalled. "He's bored of me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Will smiled. "He's an odd person. Probably why we go well together."

"He's smart. Smarter than me, probably smarter than you. I don't know how he does it, staying sane when he's been surrounded by idiots his whole life." Jack shrugged. "You can probably make it from here."

"I can." Will waved at Jack. "I'd appreciate it if you called me when you trace her family."

"I will!" Jack called. Will made his way over to Hannibal's home.

The walk was pleasent, and if it hadn't been for the ringing in his ears, the faint muttering, he would've almost enjoyed it. He knocked on the doctor's door, tucking his hair behind his ear and clearing his throat. He enjoyed talking to Hannibal after seeing a traumatic crime scene. It was almost soothing.

Hannibal had found a bottle of scotch and indulged more than he probably should have. He was enjoying a cigar, something he had only done once before when he was fourteen, and he felt almost bad for it, in a thrilled way. He blond stood and staggered to the door when the bell rang through his head, pulling it open and giving Will a much too honest grin. Will stared at Hannibal for a moment, inhaling the strong scent of smoke, opening his mouth to speak before abruptly closing it again.

"You... Either I'm experiencing phantomia, or I've begun to develop quite the Daddy complex." Will mused softly. "Because I doubt you've been smoking. And... Drinking quite a strong whiskey."

"Scotch." Hannibal corrected, his smile a bit more lewd. "Tell me about your daddy complex, Will." His drawl was smooth, like he was talking to a less intelligent patient of his, and he stepped aside.

"I said that in jest." Will didn't make to go inside."Did spending the weekend with me really depress you so much that you had to resort to heavy drinking?"

"I thought... I thought I'd have a drink, but I forgot about the wine." Hannibal tried to explain, wandering back to his chair. "You want some?" He had his glass, the bottle beside it, pouring some of the caremel-colored liquid so it could slowly be watered down by ice.

"No thanks." Will declined. He would've, usually, but he assumed that Jack might need him later.

"You're letting the hot air out." Hannibal motioned to the door and cursed in Lithuanian. He downed the drink he had poured for Will even though he knew he shouldn't have.

"What's wrong with you?" Will asked, crossing his arms rather suddenly. Hannibal squinted up at Will for a moment, raising the bottle as an explaination.

"I'm drunk!" He exclaimed a bit too loudly, taking the cigar from the ashtray and pulling on it. He was surprised he'd even had an ashtray.

"Oh, I can see that, Dr Lecter." He responded. "You sound and smell just like my father." He looked immensely uncomfortable by this.

"You never had a good relationship with your father, did you? I loved my father. He was executed by a Russian soldier..." Hannibal said, much more forthcoming than he usually was, but only because it was Will. He wasn't worried about judgement or pity. "And my mother... she looked just like you, when they cut her hair." The blond glanced over his shoulder at nothing in particular. Will stared at Hannibal, supressing a grimace.

"My father hated me. I'm assuming it was because I looked like my mother. I never knew her, she had a massive cerebral bleed a few hours after I was born." Will voiced after a moment.

"Why did he move you around so much?" Hannibal asked, wishing Will would snuggle with him but lacking the motivation to get up. He put the cigar out, tired of it.

"He was a fisherman. Used to be a cop. My mother made him quit when she got pregnant. Work would always dry up." Will explained softly. "He dragged me across states so he could work. He... Didn't even tell me he was dying. My relationship with my father isn't something I like to dwell on." Will looked at Hannibal. "Do you remember your parents?" Hannibal smiled and nodded.

"My mother... smelled like the air before it rains, clean and fresh. And my father smoked pipe tobacco, so he always smelled a bit sour. My mother was very kind, and smiled even when things were terrible, but my father was level-headed. He honored wisdom, wanted to go to school for his retirement and learn until he passed away." He recounted.

"They sound like lovely people." Will fell silent for a moment, reaching under his shirt and unfastening a well-hidden necklace. It was silver, a fine jet stone settled into the body of the thing, the male offering it to Hannibal. "This was my mother's. And then it was my grandmother's. She put a picture of my Mom and my Aunt in there." Will explained. "My aunt went missing when she was fourteen, they never found a body. And my mother died when she was twenty-nine... Sort of tragic, when you think about it. She outlived both of her children." Hannibal took the locket and clicked it open, nodding.

"She has your eyes." He commented, handing the locket back.

"She was probably lovely... I... It's almost scary that I don't know much about her. My Grandma said she smelt like lavender... And that she had a brilliant mind." Will voiced.

"My mother loves you. I-if she'd ever known you, she would have loved you, I mean." Hannibal slurred.

"I had a sister, too."

'You told me about her when we were younger, I remember." Will acknowledged. Hannibal's expression sank to one of distant sadness.

"I a-ate her. The soldier made me." He sounded heartbroken. Will's eyes widened in utter horror, and he felt bile rise in his throat.

"T-that's..." He had no words. "Y-you were tiny when... We met, Jesus, you must've been..."

"I was four. I remember her screaming. They wouldn't let her die until I did, so I did..." Hannibal's voice was shaking, and he opened his arms, hoping for a hug. Will stood, taking Hannibal's head and pulling it to his chest.

"I'm so sorry..." Hannibal didn't say anything, afraid he would lose what remained of his composure if he did. He pulled Will closer, awkwardly bringing him onto his lap and holding him in a tight grasp. Will allowed Hannibal to hold him, the two sitting in relative silence.

"Did I do wrong?" Hannibal asked. "She was in so much pain, they..."

"You didn't do anything wrong." Will responded. "You were so young... None of it was your fault." He'd never had to soothe anybody before, not like this.

"I had a choice. They gave me a choice, but she... she couldn't say anything, I didn't know what she wanted." Hannibal said into Will's shirt.

"She was in pain... Y-you did the right thing." Will assured softly. "Don't blame yourself." His phone began to ring, and it was obviously Jack, but Will hung up. Hannibal sniffed loudly.

"I'll be okay." He assured. "You catch a murderer."

"I'm not leaving you like this." Will sounded rather firm, and Hannibal laughed heartily.

"We'd end up fucking if you stayed. And you'll be back."

"I hate it when you're crass." Will stood. "Okay, I'll leave. I'll have to get a cab."

"Take my car." Hannibal pointed at the key rack next to the door.

"And you'll tell me about your daddy complex when you get back!" Will fought back a grin, taking the keys and driving to the FBI headquarters, where Jack had asked to meet him.


	7. Kānēshon

Marlene had followed Will. She'd seen him go into Hannibal's home, had seen him leave, too, but had waited. She knocked thrice on Hannibal's front door, the brunette shoving her hands into her pockets and frowning to herself.

Hannibal was halfway down the hall when he heard the knocking, turning to stagger back into the living room. He didn't bother to check who it was, sure that Will was simply returning for something he'd forgotten.

"Oh." He half-greeted, not expecting the young female.

"Hello? Is this where Will Graham lives?" Marlene was lightly disguised, though she assumed, just by looking at Hannibal, that he would see through her. She could certainly see through him, the monster that lurked underneath.

"This is where I live." Hannibal smiled, the flash of homicidal malice in the girl's eyes rather sobering."Please, come in." Marlene was careful about entering Hannibal's home, the girl tentatively slipping inside. Hannibal closed the door behind her. "What is the press calling you?" He asked. "I haven't been following the papers, I'm sorry. Last I checked, you were the Juvenile Murderer. Appropriate, I suppose. You being so young." Marlene bit her lip.

"The press hasn't settled on a name for me yet. Sometimes, I am the Pint-sized Slasher, others, I am simply the Juvenile Slaughterer." She explained softly. "What do the press call you?" Hannibal didn't answer, though he had pulled back his person-mask, and she could see him for what he was. "You're a clever one. Jumping into bed with the best investigator the FBI has."

"I grew up with him." Hannibal said simply. "And... they call me the Cheasapeke Ripper. Would you like something to drink? I have this lovely scotch."

"I don't drink. On account of my being fifteen." Marlene was awed. "I love your work." She wasn't even sure if she believed Hannibal.

"I suspected you would, taking organs home the way you have." Hannibal commented. "Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I was looking for Special Agent Graham." Marlene replied.

"Why?" Hannibal asked, going to the kitchen. "Are you sure you aren't thirsty? We have coffee, tea, orange juice. I can probably give you a lovely plate of food, if you're hungry." Marlene slipped her hands into her pockets.

"Food?" She grinned almost darkly to herself. "Do you eat flesh in-between your killing sprees, or is it a delicacy you tend to save?"

"I've killed a few times since the last Ripper murder." Hannibal voiced. It was refreshing to be able to speak honestly to someone. "And I tend to save it, yes. Other meats are too dirty."

"Humans are the dirtiest creatures of all. I admire your work, but I question the way you go about it." Marlene voiced. "Does your FBI dogs body know your true identity?"

"No, and I'd like to keep it that way." Hannibal stated. "Try this and tell me it isn't divine." He set two plates on the table and found a seat. Marlene looked rather disgusted by the offer.

"That's human heart." She voiced instantly. "I've had dinner parties, fed chutney of a grieving woman's late husband to her. I've had the investigating force of my murders over for a nice meal, fed them the woman they'd found that afternoon." Hannibal took a bite. "Try it, I implore you."

Marlene gazed at the food set in front of her, taking her cutlery and cutting at the meat. Though she had little to no morals, even she found the practice of eating human flesh distasteful. Nevertheless, she took a piece of the meat, setting it carefully into her mouth. Hannibal watched intently, smiling.

"How is it?" Marlene thought for a moment, chewing with a thoughtful expression. "I've eaten animal offal before. It's... Similar." She thought aloud. "It's good, but I think it's probably more... Your cooking than the meat."

"That's very nice of you." Hannibal nodded.

"I find human is sweeter, but I'm probably biased."

"I'm likening it to pork." Marlene mused. She glanced at Hannibal. "Tell me about Will."

"Will is a lovely person. He's got impressive empathic abilities." Hannibal started. "And he's mine. Completely mine."

"Are you planning on killing him?" Marlene asked, expression unreadable. "Or at least destroying him... He's the only person who could destroy you, after all."

"He won't. He loves me, and I won't kill him because I love him, too. I'm not worried. He'll deny any evidence if he finds it." Hannibal took another bite. "I'm sorry to inform you that they know who you are. Killing your sister was a bad decision."

"I have a twin brother." Marlene smiled to herself. "They'll find the scalpels in his room. I'm resigned to the fact that they're going to catch me at some point, so I'm going to make my last few murders count. I... You might think me an immature child, but I really have thought out my crimes."

"I hope you don't intend to kill Will. I don't care who else you kill, but he's off limits." Hannibal warned. "Or perhaps you want to kill me? And after I've been so hospitable."

"That..." Marlene smiled, standing rather abruptly. "Will Graham is an asset to the FBI, Dr. Lecter. He gives them an unfair advantage over the criminals they try to catch."

"Oh, hardly. He's a teacher, and is only temporarily helping them." Hannibal also stood. Marlene moved away from the table, grabbing a switchblade from her coat pocket and flicking the thing out, approaching Hannibal carefully. Hannibal calmly picked up his butcher's knife.

"Well?" Marlene stool tall, grasping into the blade he was holding. She drew blood, but was okay with that. Hannibal Lecter would be her last victim, her crowing glory. "If only you were a boy. I'd have you before I killed you, and it would be beautiful." He commented, pulling the knife away and aiming for the girl's midsection.

The knife plunged into Marlene's stomach, though not deep enough. She used the moment of semi-confusion to, rather animalistically, plunge her switchblade straight into Hannibal's chest, through his shirt, blood pooling around his chest.

Hannibal grunted, shoving Marlene to the floor by her head and plunding the knife deep into her stomach, twisting it. He needed a stab of his own to make it self defence, pushing her hand down. Marlene grunted, swallowing hard, and with what little might she had left, removing the knife only to plunge it back in, the motion stabbing into the tender space between the man's ribs. He could feel the air leave his lungs, sputtering blood when he gave a pitiful, wheezing cough.

"I still w-won." She informed Hannibal, blood dripping down her mouth. Hannibal keeled over, lying on his side.

"I'll be fine." He reached into his pocket, taking out his phone and dialing the police. He put pressure on his chest, turning his head to watch the girl die. She simply bled, onto Hannibal's newly-cleaned rug, staining it a deep, glorious scarlet, life leaving her.


	8. Wasurenagusa

Hannibal knew the moment the smell hit his nose that Will didn't know what he meant when he's asked for soup. He chuckled under his breath and shook his head as the smell became progressively more powerful, then he smelled char and heard Will curse loudly. After a few moments of cabinets slamming, Hannibal heard sock-clad feet pad up the steps, and Will grinned at his lover with a tray of soup - crackers, orange juice, one of his fine china bowls - smelling like a factory. He faked his most grateful smile ad held out his hands.

"You didn't have to." Hannibal assured, Will folding his hands behind his back, avoiding eye contact.

"I... I did. This was all my fault, I'm sorry." The brunette said bashfully.  
"The least I can do is make you food."

Will let his eyes travel back up to Hannibal, watching him intently. The older man took his spoon and sipped some of the broth into his mouth, trying very, very hard not to let his features sour. It tasted utterly dreadful, the vegetables cooked down too much, the noodles staying intact by some miracle. It had too much salt, Hannibal wondering if Will had added any while he was cooking. He took a cracker from the side of the tray, a package that Will had also apparently bought from the corner-store, and he nibbled a corner off of it. He set it down, too, and washed the dreadful mouthful down with orange juice. Orange juice from concentrate.

"Thank you very much, Will." Hannibal smiled up at his companion, and if he didn't know better, he would have said Will's eyes became suddenly wet with tears.

"You hate it." He sounded defeated. 

"No, Will, it's... a very kind gesture." Hannibal assured, wishing he could demand that Will take it away immediately, throw it into the downstairs incinerator that Will probably didn't know was there so the smell wouldn't linger in the trash.

"You hate it. You're repulsed, I can feel it. I-I'm sorry, let me-"

"No." Hannibal affirmed.  
"Have a seat, keep me company while I have a lovely meal."

"Hannibal, you really don't have to." Will continued to press.

"It's okay. I understand. I'm not the gormet that you are."  
Hannibal, pointedly, took another sip of the soup, unable to keep his expression stoic. He handed the tray back with a half-chuckle, and Will - thankfully - laughed with him.

"I'll get you a bottle of water." The brunette disappeared down the stairs again, and Hannibal gingerly readjusted his position in bed, removing one of the pillows keeping him upright because he wasn't allowed to use his abdominal muscles and sliding further under the blankets.

"Hannibal, I was thinking..." Will said from down the hallway, appearing in the door frame and staring at his shoes.  
"Is there anything I can do?" He asked.

"Come here." Hannibal urged, and Will scurried forward, sitting gingerly on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me that, no matter what, you'll never leave me." Will turned red and looked surprised, then grinned a little bit distantly and sideways, kicking off his shoes and layong next to Hannibal. 

"I will never leave you, Hannibal Lecter." He said, like a child swearing across his heart. He leaned up to kiss Hannibal on the cheek.  
"I love you." The brunette added, a hand on the side of Hannibal's face, the cheek fitting perfectly in his palm. The blond guided him up again, and their lips caught, Will deepening the lethargic kiss that Hannibal, muddled by the painkillers, was offering. Will was his. Completely his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the sudden hiatus! Life and college caught up with us both. Programming should resume as normal.


	9. Butakusa

Hannibal was finally up and walking. It was a relief, even if he was having trouble and had to move slowly. He was cooking his first meal since hospitalization, glad for the return of the familiar smells, Will sat at his breakfast table,   
  
"You look better." He voiced, then, falling silent again, visibly holding back.

"They're opening an inquest into Marlene West's death. And her crimes, of course. Jack... Hinted, well, that you might have to give your interpretation of events. More specifically, the... You get the idea." 

"Ah." Hannibal hobbled to the fridge to gather some cream.  
  
"Let him know anytime that's convenient, I doubt I’ll be working for a month or so, so I doubt you'll need to give much notice." He assured, stirring the  
cream into the roux he'd made.   
  
"It's on the twenty-third of next month, I believe. I'll be there, though I'm pretty sure you can look after yourself." Will offered Hannibal a distant smile.  
  
"She was a monster. Killed her own sister, just so she could find me... I seem to attract a lot of monsters. So do you." He thought for a moment. “Was Marvin a monster? Or just a man haunted by his demons? I... I think about him a lot."   
  
"Who?" Hannibal asked distractedly as he stirred the cream, appreciating the way he could see it thicken through the motions of his wooden spoon. He loved watching things thicken.  
  
"Marvin. Your patient...” Will trailed off, and Hannibal stopped for a moment, nodding to himself, the continued his stirring.

"He was not evil, he was sick." He stated.

"But is there really a difference?" Will sounded almost grim.

"Evil isn't a real concept." Hannibal added some nutmeg to the mixture. "What is evil to us is normal to the one committing murder."  
  
"I believe that some people who are labelled as evil for the murders they have committed do indeed normalize what they do, that’s not up for debate, and I... Do loathe the term evil but... Some kill for the thrill. Relatively sane people. They do exist." Will trailed his fingers over the nuisances of the counter. "The Ripper isn't insane. Not... Abhorrently so. He has personality defects, a superiority complex, but he knows what he is doing."

"Are you sure he isn't convinced that he's doing the world a service from what he does?" Hannibal asked, offering Will a spoon to taste the alfredo sauce he's whipped up.  
  
"No. He's not a martyr. He's not even doing it to make the world a better place. His motivation is purely selfish. He is God." Will rubbed his eyes. "Smells good." He commented, voice soft.   
  
"Taste it." Hannibal urged, somewhat proud of himself, both for the aroma and Will's comment on his murders. "He wants to be God, then?" Will took a silver plated spoon that Hannibal had used to spoon ingredients into, scraping a little bit of the mixture onto it and smelling it. 

"Oh, no, he believes he is God. Make no mistake. He evokes fear into the hearts of mankind, he's got... A disturbing cult following. He's God. Just... A pitiful, shriveled excuse of a God." 

"That's rather rude, Will." Hannibal frowned and kept stirring, stopping momentarily to check the pasta. "Calling someone that evil God. God is righteous."

"Is God righteous. That would imply that his judgment is fair. God kills innocents, he kills those who worship him, and it's not simply a case of natural selection. God isn't fair, and he doesn't do it for the good of this world he created. The Ripper kills, too, and he doesn't do it for any righteous reason. He does it for the thrill. To humiliate, because he's bored." Will voiced in a monotone, expression irate."I can compare the two. They're both… Quite evil."

"You're an Atheist, aren't you?" Hannibal didn’t sound judgmental or vicious. He didn't really care all that much either way.  
  
"I class myself more as an agnostic, if I'm honest." Will shoved the spoon into his mouth, savoring the pleasant taste. "Are you religious, Hannibal? I... Almost can't believe we've never had this talk before." He chuckled lightly.  
  
"Deeply." Hannibal nodded. "Knowing he's there gives me comfort." He took the pasta off the stove and dumped it into a colander to drain. "But I do not care what you believe. A relationship with God is a personal thing."

"I'm almost surprised. You... Don't seem like the type." Will sat up slightly, almost chuckling."Apologies for the blasphemy, by the way."

"It's fine." Hannibal assured. "My mother was religious. I find it... my duty to preserve her beliefs, especially when he saved me from my youth." Hannibal smiled and took the chicken out of the oven. Actual chicken. He was running rather low on good meat, chopping the sizzling breasts up and stirring them into the sauce.

"Would you go set the table, Will?"

"Of course. Just the two of us?” Will stood, Hannibal nodding.

"Just you and I." Will smiled distantly. 

"Good." He grabbed some cutlery. "Should I pick out a bottle of wine?"

"I think you should. There should be a few bottles in that cupboard." Hannibal pointed. He was amused that Will was asking at all. "You might want to check in the wine cellar if nothing there is to your liking. It's downstairs."

"You seem to be quite low on supplies." Will acknowledged after a moment, standing on his tiptoes to view the innards of the usually well-stocked

"Bring out a few bottles, then. I need to go shopping sometime this week." Hannibal smiled over at Will, pouring a bit of sauce over the pasta and stirring it in.

"I can go for you. It wouldn't be any trouble." Will assured.

"Oh, I'm very particular about my produce." Hannibal laughed to himself. "Don't take it personally.

"Was my kitchen no good for you, then?" Will snickered. "I'll be right back. Basement is... Through there, right?"  
  
"There's a latch on the floor." Hannibal pointed as he fixed their plates. Will nodded.  
  
He'd never been a fan of basements. Encasing darkness, darkness that tended to utterly envelope him, and when he set foot in one, he almost seemed to regress to his eight year old self, in some strange way, cowering, terrified of monsters that he was quite sure didn't really exist. The male took a deep breath, lowering himself to the floor hesitantly, shivering as he groped for a light.   
  
Which he found, the room bursting to life, though it was the last thing that registered with Will. 


End file.
